


The Downpour Job

by crossroadswrite



Series: The Rainy Mood Job [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Leverage Fusion, BAMF Stiles Stilinski, BAMF Talia Hale, Criminal Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Hurt Derek Hale, Kate Argent Warning, Light Torture, Love Confessions, M/M, Week 17, Week 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4297386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/pseuds/crossroadswrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m Kate by the way,” she introduces herself as they start to walk towards his car. </p><p>It’s a quick walk, really. You wouldn’t expect anything to go wrong in such a short walk, but then again this is Derek Hale’s life and the universe likes to take the piss out of him, sometimes quite literally.</p><p>“Derek Hale,” he introduces himself like the somewhat polite person his mom brought him up to be.</p><p>The woman’s eyes drift to something just above his shoulder for barely a second before her smile curls into something twisted and unpleasant. </p><p>“I know,” she smirks wide and a little deranged.</p><p>(Or: The one where Stiles is still a criminal, Derek is not and maybe that has some nasty consequences and maybe they make it work anyway.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Rescue Job

**Author's Note:**

> Incorporating the prompts:  
> ➥waiting in the same lobby for the rain to stop because neither has a fucking umbrella au*  
> ➥’you fucking piece of shit ran over a puddle with your car and drenched me’ au*
> 
> At the request of Trewhiney that wanted some Kate Argent and some BAMF Stiles. It kinda turned into BAMF Talia Hale, but an attempt was made.

Derek walks down to the lobby of the building he works in and sighs mournfully when he sees the downpour outside.

He checks his phone to see three messages from Stiles, probably attempts at sexting while Derek is _at work_ or off-handedly confessing to some major crime like he’s talking about the forecast for today.

The forecast that is apparently _shit_ because Derek had checked, he had taken precautions and absolutely nothing had indicated that it was going to rain today.

But here he is. Again. Looking at the drip-drops of rain like each of them have personally offended him.

They have. He’s offended, especially because he doesn’t have his umbrella. Again. And he doesn’t want to get sick from walking in the rain like some kind of stupid idiot. _Again._

“It doesn’t seem like it’s going to stop soon.”

Derek turns towards the source of the voice and is presented with a gorgeous woman.

She’s smiling kindly at him, shrugging slightly, her blonde curls spilling over her shoulder a little bit. She has sweet brown eyes, not as gorgeous as Stiles’ and a cute little nose but still nowhere as adorable as Stiles’.

She’s got something sharp about her too. It’s in the way she holds herself in a too purposeful way, like every single muscle in her body was coached into just the right position to play out exactly what she is trying to show.

“No, it doesn’t.”

The woman keeps smiling, lets her eyes trail up and down Derek appreciatively. He merely does the perfunctory once over, acknowledging that she is, in fact, gorgeous and noting that it doesn’t particularly affect him.

He thinks if the circumstances were different it would. If he didn’t have a boyfriend that was every wet dream he’s ever had since he figured out what his dick was for then he’d probably even try to flirt. As it is, he’s not really interested and because he’s not interested he can see past the charm.

Derek is mildly worried about the way the woman’s smile goes tight at the corners and her eyes sharpen into something dangerous.

“Good thing I have an umbrella then,” she laughs a little, “I could give you a ride under it. Catching a cold is _the worst_.”

Derek is wary. He’s not wary enough to say no though, just chalks it up to him being a paranoid idiot from time to time.

“Okay. My car isn’t too far from here.”

“Great,” the woman hums pleased, walking with him out the lobby and opening up a little umbrella she had in her purse. It’s black and boring.

His brain helpfully supplies that Stiles would never use such a boring umbrella.

“I’m Kate by the way,” she introduces herself as they start to walk towards his car.

It’s a quick walk, really. You wouldn’t expect anything to go wrong in such a short walk, but then again this is Derek Hale’s life and the universe likes to take the piss out of him, sometimes quite literally.

“Derek Hale,” he introduces himself like the somewhat polite person his mom brought him up to be.

The woman’s eyes drift to something just above his shoulder for barely a second before her smile curls into something twisted and unpleasant.

“I know,” she smirks wide and a little deranged.

Not two seconds later there’s a strong hand clamping some kind of cloth over Derek’s mouth and nose, an unpleasant scent burning all the way down his throat.

Derek throws out his arms and scrabbles at the hands holding him, trying to get away and failing miserably at it.

It’s not long before his entire work goes entirely black.

«»

(“Have you heard from Derek?”

“No. He should’ve left work a while ago.”

“Maybe he’s waiting for the rain to stop. Doesn’t want to get sick again.”

“Maybe.”

No one actually believes it.)

«»

Derek comes to a while after. He thinks it’s a while. His brain is not very good with units of time right now.

“He’s awake,” someone calls out and this time it’s a men’s voice, low and to the point. Devoid of inflection.

He blinks his eyes open groggily, his head pounding.

He’s sitting in a chair with his ankles bound to the legs and his wrists bound to each other on the back, paralyzing him. They did a good job with those knots too because when Derek tries to wiggle his wrists together there’s barely any space for him to work with.

“Oh good. It was getting _boring_ around here,” he hears Kate’s voice, just out of sight, somewhere behind him and it sets him even more on edge.

There’s ductape over his mouth, he belatedly notices.

Sharp nails prickle his nape and slowly Kate saunters into view, “You’re going to be the perfect distraction. Ennis do you have the camera?”

“Matt’s getting it.”

Kate nods, seemingly pleased with the proceedings, “Lets rough you up a little before we send your boyfriend a love note.”

The words are barely out of her mouth before she lands a hard punch across his jaw, quickly checking her nails for damage and shaking her knuckles out.

Derek’s head snapped to the side because of course that lunatic can pack a punch. He can feel pain blossoming over his jaw and stretching, but keeps himself from making a sound.

“You’re thick-headed aren’t you? Guess you’d have to be to date someone like _Stiles_ ,” she sneers and lands another punch on him.

“It’s nothing personal,” she assures him, grabbing him by the jaw and squeezing, “Your boyfriend was just the idiot that crossed me. You’re collateral damage,” she tells him mater-of-factly.

She digs in her nails into the side of his neck and presses down hard enough to draw blood.

Derek makes a little small grunt and jerks back from her hands.

«»

(“Someone needs to find Derek,” Stiles argues, ready to go out on a one man search party armed with only a frying pan if need be.

“We will.”

“Stiles you need to see this,” Danny calls and that is not a good tone of voice he’s using. That’s the oh-oh we are fucked tone of voice.

Stiles goes over and sees Derek in the lobby of his work building talking to Kate Argent.

 _“Fuck.”_ )

«»

“All set,” the guy that’s been setting up the tripod says boredly, making a few more adjustments before stepping behind it.

Kate sighs a little, like she was having too much fun and can’t quite believe she has to stop now.

Derek grits his teeth through the aftershocks, nails digging into his flesh until he can feel blood seeping into his fingertips as his body spasms.

“Ready?”

“Sure,” Kate says pressing something cold and hard against Derek’s temple. Great. As if the dog shock collar wasn’t enough now he has a gun to his head.

Derek lets his head drop down to his chest, panting heavily. Kate grabs him by the hair and jerks him back, “None of that sweetheart, you need to show the camera your pretty face.”

Derek closes his eyes against it, guesses he must’ve been a terrible person in a past reincarnation to deserve something like this.

Or maybe that’s just life. There’s no explanation for the shit that happens to you, you just have to take it and be quiet about it.

“Three, two, one-“

He hears the gun cock and shivers, tries to jerk away but Kate holds him still.

“Stiles, darling,” Kate begins, her voice sweet as honey and with the same sting as whiskey, “it seems that I have a little something of yours, and since you did such a good job protecting yourself I decided to give you a little encouragement.

“You know,” Derek can practically hear the grin in her voice, “let your guard down, let loose a little, have _fun_! Not that your boy here isn’t a lot of fun, because he is.”

Kate runs her fingers down his cheeks and Derek snaps his teeth at her fingers.

She jerks his head back more harshly as punishment and presses the gun harder against his temple, tutting.

“Has some behavioral issues, you should really see to that,” she says casually, pulling him by the hair upwards until he has to arch his back and crane his neck so she doesn’t just rip it off.

“I’m sure you’re smart enough to find me, so we can have a little chat. Me and boytoy here will be waiting. Anything to add, sweetie?”

Derek looks the camera dead on, “I’ll tell him when we’re both home.”

Matt makes a motion that is somehow supposed to indicate that he stopped recording and Kate backs off a little bit, looking at him, assessing.

“Do you really think either of you will come out of this alive? That’s adorable really.”

Derek blinks lazily at her, trying to breathe through the clogged blood in his nose and swallowing the taste of it from his mouth.

“My mom isn’t going to be happy I’m skipping family dinner,” he tells her.

“Do you think I give a flying fuck about your mother, darling?”

Derek coughs a little, “That’s your mistake,” he mutters.

Kate tosses her gun aside with a shrug and a little laugh, “I don’t make mistakes.”

Matt disappears somewhere with his camera and Ennis is creepily playing with a butterfly knife in the corner. He wonders what Stiles would have to say about that kind of behavior. Probably that he learned it at cliché villain school. Or something.

“Well, mommy dearest isn’t going to be the one to rescue you. What could a middle aged housewife do against paramilitary trained soldiers anyway.”

She straddles Derek and he tries to squirm back as much as possible, get away from her touch.

“Anyway, it’ll be awhile until they get it, so what do you say we have a little fun? Just you and me,” she practically pushes her breasts into his face and Derek turns his head aside.

Kate pushes his shirt up and bunches it under his armpits, running her nails harshly down his stomach.

“I have to say. Seeing you like this,” she leans close into his ear, “is getting me all hot and bothered.”

Derek has to suppress the need to throw up. He doesn’t think that would go over too well and he really doesn’t want her to pick up the remote for the shock collar again.

There’s a loud noise from their left, the door leading to the hallway rattling before it’s dead quiet again.

Kate freezes and climbs off of him, picking up her gun and signaling at Ennis to check the door.

“Do you think they’re here?” the man mutters, picking up a gun of his own and moving carefully to the door.

“Matt wouldn’t have had enough time to send the video yet.”

“Probably just Jimmy being a twat again,” he mutters.

“I swear if it’s him, I’ll shoot him myself,” she threatens.

Ennis puts his hand on the doorknob and a shot rings out across the room. Ennis crumples against the door with a loud shout as blood splashes against it.

Kate looks around widely, gun aimed at the rafters.

“Kate honestly, I thought you’d be smart enough not to use a place with skylights.”

Derek jerks his head up, looking around wildly in search for Stiles’ voice, he looks up and sees Stiles looking down at them. He waves at Derek, wiggling his fingers.

Kate shoots at him and fails, Stiles ducks for cover as Kate continues shooting.               Two shots ring out, too close together to have been shot from the same gun. And just like that she’s not shooting anymore.

Kate looks down at herself, shocked to see the bloodstain on her stomach rapidly spreading over her white tank top.

“I think ‘not my son, you bitch’ would be a good choice of one-liner. Molly Weasley is always worth quoting after all.”

His mother walks calmly through the door Ennis had fallen against, looking with mild disgust at the weapon in her hand.

“Kids these days,” she tuts, “can’t even organize a successful kidnapping.”

“Hey, Mom,” Derek says, relief crashing through him and leaving him trembling.

“Oh, baby,” she says, hurrying to his side and unstrapping him quickly, “what has she done to you?”

“I’m okay,” he mumbles, hissing when his arms are untied and the change of movement make his joints complain loudly and painfully.

“Derek!”

Stiles burst through the door, looking panicked and frantic, a harsh contrast to the glimpse of him Derek had gotten while he was taunting Kate.

“How did you get down from there so fast?”

He’s almost impressed by it.

Stiles hurriedly takes the collar off, his eyes tripping all over Derek’s face, grimacing every time he encounters an injury.

“I’m so sorry. Derek I’m so sorry. Can you get up? Scott’s mom is outside, she’s a nurse. Shit I’m going to kill _her_.”

Stiles carefully helps Derek get up, mindful of every single little injury and supporting all of his weight as they walk back outside.

Derek’s arm loudly disagree with the way Stiles is using it to support the weight of the rest of his body and something must show on his face because Stiles says in low gentle tones to him, “Just a little bit more, come on baby, you’re doing so well.”

They make it out the door and a Hawaiian looking guy sides up to them, taking Derek’s weight on his other side.

“Hey, I’m Danny. You got us worried for a minute there.”

“Derek,” he introduces himself tiredly. All he wants to do is crawl into his childhood bedroom and hide there until everything goes away forever.

They lead him to a van and sit him down on the back. The floor is oddly comfortable for a van.

“Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“’s not your fault,” Derek blinks slowly. A nap sounds like an excellent idea now that he knows that he’s safe and no one will touch him if he closes his eyes.

“She was after me, of course it’s my fucking fault. I thought we’d be safe in Beacon Hills. I didn’t think she’d dare go this far. I’m so sorry, god I’m such a fucking idiot.”

“Your attitude is not helping,” Derek hears from somewhere above him, turns his head up to see a Hispanic looking woman yielding a first aid kit and looking down on Stiles judgmentally.

“Can you fix him?”

“He could be in worse shape,” Stiles flinches, “and he could certainly do with not having to deal with your guilt tripping right now.”

“Right,” Stiles says, looking ashamed and hurt, “right, I’m sorry. You probably don’t want me near you right now, I can-“

Stiles gets up and Derek pulls him back down with a hold on his wrist.

“You’re an idiot.”

The woman raises an eyebrow and then nods her head towards Derek, “I like this one, you better keep him,” she advises, threatens really.

She turns her full attention to Derek, “Hi, I’m Melissa and I’m going to clean you up, see if you’re going to need a hospital, okay?”

Derek nods, holding onto Stiles’ hand.

“Where’s Mom?” he asks, gritting his teeth through the disinfection of his cuts.

“She’s talking to Chris about what to do with his sister. Even if she’s evil incarnate, she’s still his sister. He’s probably going to get her help and arrange to ship her somewhere that will be very hard for her to come back from.”

“I say shoot her in the face,” Melissa says off-handedly.

“This is why you’re my favorite, Mamma McCall.”

Melissa throws Stiles a fond little smile and bandages Derek’s last injury, “I’m all done here. See that you take good care of your boy. Definitely a keeper,” and with that she walks away, looking absolutely done with everyone.

“She’s nice,” Derek observes, decides to give up and lean fully against Stiles, who takes all of his weight more than happily it seems.

“Scott’s mom. Me and Scotty grew up together. He’s FBI now. Has a crush the size of Texas on Ally. Him and Jackson sometimes chase around us for kicks.”

“Jackson?”

He’s too tired for all this name dropping but while Stiles talks about this he’s not apologizing and he guesses that’s a plus.

“Also FBI. So head over heels with Lydia it’s kind of sad actually. They were chasing me when I met you.”

“The people chasing you were your friends.”

Stiles shrugs and starts petting Derek’s hair which is not helping his staying awake crusade.

“Der,” he says quietly, “I’m sorry this happened and I understand if- if you don’t want to do _this_ anymore, I mean-“

“Shut up,” Derek grunts, “Just. Shut up. I’m too tired for this but it wasn’t your fault and for some reason I’m in love with your dumb criminal ass so it’s whatever. Laura and Lydia already started planning the wedding anyway.”

Stiles is stiff under him, frozen in shock and it takes him a couple of minutes until he seems to be able to shake himself out of it, slowly start to relax.

He starts petting Derek’s hair again, holds him a little closer and Derek can absolutely get on with _this_ program.

“I love you too,” he says quietly, “and we’re both wearing flower crowns to our wedding. How else will we be pretty princesses, Derek.”

Derek laughs and it hurts but he doesn’t stop. He laughs because his boyfriend is a moron and he _loves_ him and is loved back and if it weren’t for all the injuries he’d be participating on some pretty invigorating sex right now.

But the universe still likes to take the piss out of him.

A droplet of rain catches on his jeans, followed by another and another until it’s like the Great Flood.

 _Figures_.

“I hope you brought an umbrella,” Derek tells him.

Stiles helps him get fully inside the van and closes the doors, “We can share.”


	2. Epilogue: The Happy Ending Job

“So, did you hear about it?” Erica asks casually, sitting up on Derek’s desk.

Derek sighs heavily, throwing her a glare for form’s sake. He knows that no amount of glaring will get Erica to take her butt off his work desk.

“Hear about what?”

“Boss’ house was robbed,” she says happily, “and just after he denied us our holiday bonuses too. There is justice in the world after all.”

Derek goes very, very still, “Really.”

“Yup,” she grins like she knows something he doesn’t and hops off the desk, giving him a wink, “Nice paper weight by the way.”

The paper weight in question is a tiny stylized wolf that looks simple enough. It’s sitting on its haunches and looking ahead blindly, two tiny fake jewels as eyes.

Stiles gave it to him as a gift.

Derek picks it up and stares the wolf in the eye.

“Goddamnit, Stiles.”

He gets up and picks his phone, throwing a, “Boyd watch my desk,” over his back as he marches outside so he can make this call.

It rings twice before Stiles picks up.

“Good morning sunshine.”

“Did you rob my boss’ house. And then give me what you robbed from him.”

Stiles chokes, “Whoa, how- how dare you accuse me of- honestly- outrageous- me, little old me- I would never-“

“So yes.”

Stiles huffs on the other hand, “He was being a dick and it’s not like he’s going to _miss it_. Cora thought so too.”

“You involved my sister in this.”

Derek pinches the bridge of his nose and walks a little ways down the sidewalk. Starts pacing.

“In my defense she practically begged to help. And by beg I mean threatened me with bodily harm.”

“Stiles-“

“I just wanted to do something nice,” Stiles reasons, “you’ve been really stressed with work lately, so I thought I’d do something nice for you.”

“Fine. Don’t do it again.” Maybe Derek shouldn’t be so lenient with Stiles’ stealing habits but that would be much easier to do if he didn’t practically melt whenever Stiles tried to do something nice for him. Just because.

“ _Fine_. How about I take you out to dinner tonight?”

“Aren’t you in South America?”

Something blows up in the background.

“I think we’ll finish up here sooner than we expected,” Stiles says calmly, “See you at dinner, boo.”

Derek huffs, “Fine. Be safe.”

“I love you too. Gotta go.”

The call disconnects and Derek is left there in the middle of the sidewalk frowning down at his phone. He’s absolutely not smiling. Because that would be stupid.

After all it makes no sense to be smiling over your criminal boyfriend stealing things for you because you were upset.

Derek presses down on his grin. He’s already looking forward to dinner.

He feels _happy_ , content even with his life. He doesn’t really remember the last time he felt like this.

Maybe the universe doesn’t hate him that much. Maybe his life is looking up, after all it’s not raining anymore and his boyfriend will be home earlier and maybe it doesn’t get any better than this.

A car speeds down the street, passing right over the biggest puddle in probably the entire county of Beacon Hills, drenching Derek from head to toe.

_Fuck you too, universe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay it's finished


End file.
